


ten

by snitchesandtalkers (orphan_account)



Category: Fall Out Boy, Mt Chemical Romance, Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Death, Love, M/M, Suicide, shitty lol, short fic, store
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-24
Updated: 2018-11-24
Packaged: 2019-08-28 10:04:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 13
Words: 3,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16721271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/snitchesandtalkers
Summary: mikey, of course, just had to fall in love with the man who he’d only see ten times in the span of both of their lives.





	1. one

**Author's Note:**

> posted from @thelastblews on wattpad lol

"This is all you're getting?" Mikey Way asked, raising an eyebrow in question at the man on the other side of the counter. The man's face was obscured by a hood, but Mikey could tell that he had black hair; the dreaded 'fringe', or emo style, as Mikey liked to call it. From what Mikey could see of him, though, he was kind of cute. Not necessarily Mikey’s dream man, but cute nonetheless. 

The man kept his head down, avoiding eye contact with mikey. Even if the person was cute, Mikey was always slightly uncomfortable in situations like these; especially when the person was buying one, simple, red pen. 

The brand he was buying was some cheap one that Mikey knew- from personal experience- sucked. Nobody really bought them, even if they were on 'budgets'. They just fucking sucked. 

"Yeah, yeah, it is." The man mumbled and shoved his hands in the pockets of his hoodie, pulling out a crumbled five dollar bill. "Is this okay? I don't have any singles on me."

"A single would be easier for me," Mikey snorted, taking the bill from the man's hand. "But I’ll just give you change."

"Thanks," The man said, narrowing his eyes for a moment, keeping them fixated on Miley’s name tag. "Mikey?"

"That’s me." Mikey opened the register, drawing four single dollar bills from it and shoving the five dollar one into it. "Four dollars, on the dot."

"Thanks," The man mumbled again, taking the bills from Mikey and snatching the cheap pen off of the counter. "I’ll probably be back."

"Wait-" Mikey called, but the man had already exited the building. Mikey sighed, biting his lip and glancing at the doors. The man said he'd be back, and maybe then Mikey would let curiosity consume him and ask the man's name.


	2. two

The man came in a second time the very next day. Mikey didn't get extremely unnerved by the fact that he came in at almost the exact same time; if anything, he barely noticed it. He was too busy anticipating the man’s arrival.

"Hey!" Mikey said, eyes widening when the man appeared in front of him again. "You’re back."

"Yeah, I am," The man smiled a bit, setting another pen down on the counter; this time, it was orange. Mikey didn't even think they made orange pens. When he took a closer look at it, he realized it wasn't the same brand as before; it was a Sharpie, which explained why it came in orange. "I don't think I need singles for this one?"

It came out like a question. "Uh- this is..." Mikey grabbed the pen, scanning it and glancing at the price. "2.99. Damn."

"Fuck, singles could've worked," The man groaned. "I’m so sorry- I only have fives. Again."

"It’s fine," Mikey said, taking the five dollar bill from the man, and inserting it into the register. He pulled out one penny and two dollars, then set them on the counter. "I assume you're gonna be back?"'

"Yeah." The man nodded, flipping the cap off of the pen and scribbling on his hand, just to see if it worked. Mikey didn't comment; instead, he watched the man lean intently over the counter and scribble on himself. "My name's Pete, by the way. You probably don't care, but it would be cool for you to know just in case we run into each other again... I guess."

Mikey nodded as Pete drew away from the counter and put the cap back in its original place. He was glad he didn't have to ask what Pete’s name was; social anxiety would've been a bitch to him in that situation. "You already know that I’m Mikey."

He pointed at his name tag and Pete chuckled. "Yah..." Pete put the pen in his pocket, along with the change. "I guess I might see ya' tomorrow, Mikey?"

"Yeah, see you." Once again, Mikey watched Pete exit the store, only this time with the satisfaction of knowing the kinda-cute guy's name.


	3. three

"Hey, Pete," Mikey said when the familiar man appeared in front of him. Today, he wasn't wearing the hoodie Mikey had seen him in the past two days; he had on a t-shirt and pair of skinny jeans, a pair of sunglasses were perched on his nose as well. "yellow today?"

"Yeah," Pete stuttered, as if he couldn't believe Mikey was paying attention to the colors he was buying. "Just this. As per usual-"

"Are you buying all the colors of the rainbow?" Mikey asked, raising his eyebrows as he rang the man up. "Gay shit, am I right?"

Pete was silent for a moment. "Yeah, I actually am gonna buy all the colors of the rainbow. Not for gay shit, though."

"What’re you gonna use them for, then?" Mikey asked, searching deeper for answers. "Why are you buying them all at separate times?"

"Meh," Pete shrugged. "I’m writing something. And I don't really know why I’m buying them at different times..."

Mikey wasn't dumb; he knew that Pete knew why he wasn't buying them all at once, but he didn't want to make the man uncomfortable. "Ah, okay! Oh, and that's 1.99."

"Here," Pete reached into the back pockets of his jeans and pulled out his wallet, grabbing two single dollar bills and placing them on the counter. "I finally got a wallet so I can keep everything in once place."

"Whoa," Mikey smiled, taking the singles and replacing them for a penny. "Here is your one cent back!"

"Keep it," Pete shrugged, grabbing the yellow pen from Mikey. "It’s just a penny."

"As an employee, I don't think I’m allowed to keep it." Mikey argued, furrowing his eyebrows together.

Pete let a small smile tug at his lips. "Well, then as my friend," He took the penny from Mikey, then placed it back in the taller man's hand. "You can keep it."

With that, Mikey was left standing at the cash register, alone, holding the penny the beautiful, yet confusing, man had given him.


	4. four

On the fourth day of Pete coming to the store and purchasing pens, he said nothing. No 'hey' or 'hello' to Mikey; just slamming the pen down on the counter and staring at Mikey.

"Uh-" Mikey began, eyes wide at the man. He took the pen- green today- and scanned it. "1.99."

Pete grabbed two single dollar bills from his pocket- he was back in the hoodie- and set them down on the counter, picking the pen up and shoving it in his pocket. He turned on his heel, heading towards the exit to the store immediately.

"Wait!" Mikey called after him, quickly exchanging the two single dollar bills for a penny. "Here’s you penny..." His voice trailed off at the end as he watched Pete exit the building for the fourth time. "Fuckin' peachy."

"Who was that?" A new voice asked, appearing in front of Mikey. "You’re boyfriend? Seemed pretty cold."

"Shut up, Dallon," Mikey snorted, setting the penny down on the counter and turning to face his fellow cashier. "He’s just a kid who's been coming in the past couple of days and buying pens."

"That sounds..." Dallon trailed off, looking upwards in mock thought. "Stalkerish. Flat-out stalkerish."

"He’s a nice guy." Mikey defended. "His name is Pete."

"Last name?" Dallon raised his eyebrows, crossing his arms and leaning over the counter.

"Uh-"

"Exactly." Dallon moved back, rolling his eyes. "Look, dude, you know what the boss tells us; don't be too friendly with customers, especially if they seem suspicious."

"He’s buying fucking pens-" Mikey started, but was cut off once again.

"And he could be poisoning people with the ink." Dallon argued. "Just listen to Patrick on this one. He’s the boss."

"Now you sound like some workaholic," Mikey mumbled. "Thanks, Dallon." he put a strong emphasis on the 'thanks', but he was barely sure Dallon heard him.

"No problem, Mikes."


	5. five

“Sorry about yesterday," Mikey was startled by Pete’s voice coming from ahead of him. The man was back, with a blue pen in his hand. The pen was a really nice one. For example, Mikey knew that a pack of three was thirty dollars. He thought one would be around ten, and was proven correct when Pete set the pen on the counter and pulled out a ten dollar bill. 

"It’s- it's fine." Mikey stuttered, scanning the pen and widening his eyes at the price. "9.99. Are you okay, by the way? You seemed upset."

"Yeah..." Pete set the ten dollar bill on the counter, exchanging it for the blue pen. "My mom and I were fighting. Nothing new."

"Damn, dude, I’m sorry," Mikey sighed. "I assume you don't want the penny from yesterday or today?"

"Nah, you can keep them," Pete shrugged. "Not a big deal."

"You know what?" Mikey began typing something into the register as he rang Pete up. "I’m giving you my employee discount. Ten percent off."

"You don't- you don't have to do that," Pete felt a blush creeping up his cheeks. 

"Yeah, I do," Mikey argued. "You’re my friend and I don't want you wasting ten dollars on a fucking pen."

"Thanks, Mikey," Pete mumbled, grabbing the single dollar bill he got in return. He shoved it in the pocket of his hoodie, and let the blue pen follow in as well. "I’ll see you tomorrow?"

"See you tomorrow!" Mikey beamed, waving as Pete exited the store. For the fifth time.


	6. six

"You okay, Pete?" Mikey asked as he scanned the man's dark blue pen. It was a darker shade than the previous day; almost to the point where it looked black. "You look like you've been crying."

"Yeah- yeah. I’m fine..." Pete mumbled, grabbing a dollar bill from his pocket. Mikey would've bet a lot that it was the same bill from yesterday, and it was definitely the same hoodie. "Just a rough night."

"Need to talk about it?" Mikey offered, taking the dollar from Pete and placing it in the register. He didn't even bother grabbing the extra penny. "My shift ends in forty-five minutes."

"I think I’m fine, m-" Pete cut himself off, eyes widening a bit. "I’m fine, yeah. You can- you can keep the change."

"Hey, Pete!" Mikey recognized the voice of his boss from behind him. "It’s weird seeing you here."

"Y- yeah, it is Patrick," Pete mumbled, biting his lip and looking at his shoes. "Look, I’ve gotta go. My friend invited me to do something today and I’m gonna be late if I don't leave now."

"Oh-" Patrick started. "You sure?"

"I’m pretty fucking sure," Pete nodded, turning on his heel and walking quickly towards the exit. 

"You know him?" Mikey asked, turning to face his boss. 

"I do," Patrick smiled sadly. "He was my best friend in high school... Until we had a falling out cause he couldn't keep it in his pants. And he decided to cut me out of his life."

"Oh." Mikey sighed. "He’s a nice guy. I feel bad for him, though. Seems really sad."

"Yeah, he had depression back in high school. went on some drugs for it, I think? Ativan, maybe? I can't remember exactly what it was. All I remember was that I reminded him to take it whenever we had sleepovers or whatever. I’m not sure if he's doing better or worse now, but despite how he was to me, I hope he's doing better." Patrick explained.

"Oh God," Mikey sighed another time. "now I feel even worse."

"I get you," Patrick chuckled softly, patting Mikey's back. "Anyways, you should be getting back to your shift. Just thirty minutes left."

"Thanks, Patrick."

"Anytime, Mikey."


	7. seven

"Purple is my favorite color," Pete began, setting a purple Sharpie pen down on the counter. "It reminds me of escaping to freedom and setting myself free from something. It’s a beautiful color."

"I agree," Mikey smiled softly, scanning the pen. "That’s... 2.99."

"Okay," Pete fumbled in hick back pocket, pulling out his wallet. "I remembered it today. Here are three singles, Mikey."

"Sick," Mikey inserted them into the register, pulling out a penny. "I’m forcing you to take this today, whether you like it or not."

"Damn," Pete snorted, twirling the purple pen in one and hand letting Mikey place the penny on his other. "You’re viscous."

"Not viscous; just determined." Mikey defended himself, laughing and crossing his arms. "Determined to give away all of the pennies in this register by the end of this month. You’re not really helping that situation."

"Ow, it's like you're attacking me online without actually tagging me." Pete rolled his eyes. "That hurt, dude. I feel like a twelve year old that was attacked in the comments of a Logan Paul video."

"Did you just-"

"Fuck yeah, I did." Pete snorted another time. "You’re a sweet dude, yanno?"

"You are, too," Mikey added on, snapping his right hand's middle finger and thumb. "But you're a sweet... Little dude. get it? Cause you're short."

"That was a low blow," Pete shook his head, sighing and mocking disappointment. 

"You betcha," Mikey agreed. "Shit, someone's waiting for me to ring them up. I’ll- I’ll see you tomorrow, sweet little dude?"

"See you, my sweet dude!"


	8. eight

"Hey, P-" Mikey cut himself off when he made eye contact with the man; his eyes were bloodshot, once again. They were also rimmed in eyeliner, something that complimented his black fringed hair and bloodshot eyes. Mikey thought he looked like the ultimate emo package today; black hoodie and black skinny jeans completing the look. "You okay?"

Pete chuckled dryly. "No, but i'll be fine."

"What’s wrong?" Mikey asked, thinking back to what Patrick has told him only a few days before. 

"I don't really wanna talk about it," Pete mumbled. he set a pink pen- a fucking Hello Kitty pen- down on the counter and pulled out three quarters. "It was on sale and I don't really want to pay five dollars for a pink pen that I’m never gonna use."

"Okay..." Mikey took he pen, scanning it. "75 cents, but you already know that." He scooped up the three quarters, setting them in their respected spot in the register. "You sure you'll be okay?"

"Yeah, I’ll be fine," Pete smiled one that Mikey knew was fake, especially after all those years of living with Gerard. Gerard was the champion of fake smiles that looked real; they were the master of tricking people into believing they were fine. 

"Okay then..." Mikey trailed off. "Bye, I guess? See you later, sweet little dude."

"Bye, Mikey."


	9. nine

"I don't have a color today," Pete said, appearing in front of Mikey. "Could you maybe... choose for me?"

"Of fucking course!" Mikey exclaimed, a smile spreading across his face like icing on a cake. He turned around, facing the man at the register behind him. "Dallon! Would you mind working my spot for a few minutes?"

"Sure," the other man- Dallon- answered. 

"Thanks!" Mikey cheered, grabbing Pete's wrist and pulling him toward the back of the store, where the pens were. "Here we go."

"Thank you so much, Mikey," Pete said, examining the wide variety of pens. "There are... A lot of colors to choose from."

"There really are," Mikey nodded in agreement. "What about a silver pen- oh wait! I’ve got the perfect one for you." He bent down, grabbing a pen from the bottom shelf. "Here!"

Pete took it from Mikey's hands, examining the color. "Gold? I can dig this."

"Sick," Mikey said. "Don’t worry about paying; I’ll cover it."

"You don't have to do that for me-" Pete argued, blushing a bit. "Really, you don't have to do that for me."

"Yes, I do." Mikey fought back. "Now take the fucking pen and I’ll pay for it for you."

"Okay..." Pete sighed. "I could never thank you enough, Mikey. You’re an amazing guy. You’re the taller of the sweet little dudes."

"Fuck yeah, I am." Mikey patted his chest, puffing it out and laughing. "How about I walk you to the front of the store?"

Pete smiled, twirling the golden pen in his hands. "I’d absolutely love that."


	10. ten

Pete has been crying again. In Mikey's opinion, he looked like utter shit. Mikey didn't really know what he was expecting when Pete set the pen on the counter; maybe a teal or magenta color, but definitely not the black Pete set down. 

"H- hey, Mikes." A sniffle came from Pete. He was starting to cry again. 

"Hi, Pete." Mikey said, scanning the pen. "Are you okay? You’re... You’re crying."

"I’m okay, I guess," Pete shrugged. "I could be a lot better, but really everyone could be better. You get what i mean?"

"Yeah, I do." Mikey nodded. "3.99 for your... Black pen."

"Here’s five." Pete handed a five dollar bill to Mikey, taking the black pen from Mikey's hand as he did so. "You can... Keep the change. It’s just a dollar and one cent. Not that big of a deal."

"Are you sure, Pete?" Mikey asked, raising his eyebrows and pausing his movements in getting Pete's change.

"Yeah, I don't need it." Pete sighed, running a hand through his hair and putting the black pen in his hoodie pocket. "Too much of a clutter. No what I need at the moment."

"Ah, okay." Mikey sighed, biting his lip. 

The two men stood in silence for a few moments, until Pete broke it. "Thank you for everything, Mikey. you're an amazing friend."

"It’s no problem, Pete." Mikey shrugged. "You’re even more amazing. You’re my sweet little dude and I couldn't be more thankful for you coming in every fucking day and buying a different colored pen."

"Yah," Pete chuckled dryly. "Bye, Mikey."

"Bye, Pete! see you tomorrow." Mikey called after the shorter man as he exited the store. 

"Yeah."


	11. eleven

"Where’s your little boy toy?" Dallon asked, appearing beside Pete as he rang up a customer- a regular by the name of Brendon. "I haven't seen him in a few days."

"Yeah..." Mikey sighed, handing Brendon’s receipt to the man and waving goodbye to him. "Four days, Dallon. Four fucking days. What if he's dead? Oh my God-"

"I’m sure he's fine, Mikey. Don’t worry," Dallon patted the older man's back. "I’ve gotta get back to my register. Don’t worry about Pete."

"Easier said than done," Mikey mumbled under his breath. "Thanks, Dal."

"No problem, Mikes." Dallon said, moving away from Mikey. 

Mikey never realized how much he had relied on Pete in the past ten days to make his time at work less boring than it actually was. The thought of thinking of the next pen Pete would buy- even though he always had a pretty good idea of the next color- made him excited for the next day. He liked making small talk with Pete. He liked Pete. 

He liked Pete a lot.


	12. twelve

"Hey, Mikey."

"Oh my fucking God, you're alive!" Mikey gasped, lunging across the counter and pulling Pete into a hug. "I was so worried. Don’t ever do that again, holy shit!"

"Sorry," Pete mumbled.

"It’s okay... Just, please, never do that again." Mikey sighed, crawling back across the counter to the register. "Why were you gone?"

"I was writing something." Pete said simply, reaching into his hoodie pocket and pulling out a letter. He set it down beside the register. "Don’t open it until tomorrow morning."

"Okay, okay," Mikey nodded. "Do you need me to ring up this pen?" He gestured to the pen Pete has just placed on the counter; a black one. Not the same brand as a few days prior, but a shittier one. 

"Uh- yes, yes please." Pete nodded. He let Mikey scan the pen. "Here’s 1.00. I already know the price." He handed Mikey a one dollar bill, and Mikey put it into the register. 

"No change?" Mikey asked, sliding the pen across the counter to Mikey. 

"No change," Pete nodded, clicking the pen and grabbing the letter. He scribbled 'Mikey' across the outside, and then 'do not open until tomorrow morning' in smaller letters underneath it. "Thank you, Mikey."

"No problem, Pe-" Mikey began, looking up from the letter, but Pete was already gone; the pen he had just bought left behind- just like a ghost.


	13. thirteen

The first thing Mikey did when he woke up the next morning was open the letter Pete had left him. 

There were ten different paragraphs; each paragraph a color of a pen Pete had bought, in order of what he had bought it. Red, orange, yellow, green, blue, dark blue, purple, pink, gold, and black.    
  
Ten fucking colors, each color standing for a day Mikey had seen Pete. That was the way Mikey saw it, at least.    
  
' _ Dear Mikey, _ _   
_ _ I understand we don't know each other very well, but you are my lifeline. You are the very man who's kept me alive this long. I’m writing this before I say goodbye to you for the final time; before you knew if I was okay or not. You probably weren't worried about me. I don't see who would be _ .'   
  
Red ink.   
  
' _ The first day I met you was kinda funny. I actually had all the pens up front with me, but when I saw you, I shoved all of them except for the red one away. I thought you were cute. I liked you a lot, and you're the reason I’m writing this letter _ .'   
  
That goddamn orange sharpie.    
  
' _ I planned on giving it to a random person after I bought the ten pens, but of course, you came into play and changed that all. Thank you for that. If you hadn't been working, i wouldn't have enjoyed my final days _ .'   
  
The yellow pen    
  
' _ In no way was this your fault. I’m sure Patrick told you what happened; how I left him in high school and how I was dealing with depression. I’m so sorry _ .'   
  
Green ink.   
  
' _ The truth is that I like you a lot, Mikey. I know you'd never have liked me back in the way I like you. Despite that fact, I stayed alive for you. I stayed alive to see your face for ten days. You’re my sweet dude; my friend _ .'   
  
Blue; the first blue pen Pete bought.   
  
' _ Thank you for everything, Mikey _ .'   
  
The dark, almost black blue.    
  
' _ Thank you for being there for me and caring if i was okay or not _ .'   
  
That was in purple. Pete's favorite color.    
  
' _ I’m sorry I’m weak and couldn't stay alive _ .'   
  
The shitty Hello Kitty pen that Mikey had laughed at. Ironically, it wrote the line that broke Mikey's heart the most.    
  
' _ I’m sorry, Mikey _ .'   
  
The was in the gold pen; the pen Mikey payed for. The pen Mikey chose. He wouldn't have agreed to choose if he had knows what Pete was planning.    
  
' _ My time has come. _ _   
_ _ -Pete Wentz' _ _   
_ __   
The last paragraph was in the black pen; the one Pete took home with him. The first black pen. the color of death. It only symbolized Pete's intelligence even more; only someone as smart as him would take into play the meaning of the color he would write his last line in. The last of ten colors Mikey had sold him. 


End file.
